I saw many wonderful things when I visited my brother in New York City a few weeks ago: the unicorn tapestries at the Met Cloisters, Wicked (for the first time!), the well-stocked back bar of Death & Company. But nothing beat the bottle of Yellow Chartreuse I found just sitting on the shelf of a random Upper West Side wine shop. Bottles, in fact, both Yellow and Green, of the monk-made French liqueur nobody has been able to get for months. I bought one, stuffed it into my suitcase, and smuggled it back to Chicago.
At the top of this year, the Carthusian monks that make Chartreuse announced they’d be paring back production to focus on their monk duties, which, who can blame them? Still, a freakout among bartenders and cocktail makers ensued, with people scrambling to stock up on the liqueurs and testing the waters for any viable alternatives. I’ve had no problem finding Green Chartreuse when shipments hit Chicago, but hadn’t been able to track down a bottle of Yellow — in fact, I’d never had it before.
Yellow Chartreuse uses the same 130 botanicals as Green, but is macerated differently and bottled at a lower 43% ABV, compared to Green’s 55%. When I finally opened my bottle, I was surprised that Yellow Chartreuse was as nuanced as Green while being a bit more delicate. It tastes like honey, flowers, and saffron (which gives it the yellow color), plus many other roots and leaves I’ve probably never heard of.
Obviously, this week’s drink uses Yellow Chartreuse.1 It also uses two other monk-made alcohols as well. It’s called the Felonious Monk (get it?), made by Tim Lacey, who’s bartended all around Chicago and now owns the restaurant Atelier. Lacey complements the Yellow Chartreuse with Benedictine, a honeyed, nutty liqueur made by Benedictine monks that’s essential to many New Orleans classics. The two liqueurs join a base of gin in this Gin Fizz riff, along with lemon juice, Angostura bitters, and egg white. (The egg white is essential to a fizz, giving it a frothy, creamy texture with the bubbles.) Then, the drink is topped with Belgian abbey ale, a strong, malty beer that spans a lot of styles. I went with Westmalle Tripel, which I figured was light enough to work with the gin — and which is actually made at a monastery in Belgium.
Two other notes on the recipe: 1. Lacey’s cocktail calls for Martin Miller’s Westbourne Gin, which is more citrus-forward than a typical London dry. I used my all-purpose Beefeater because, well, I’d already bought enough for this drink. And 2. Lacey’s recipe says to strain the cocktail on ice, but I think serving an egg white drink over ice messes up the texture, so I didn’t do that.
Felonious Monk2
1 1/2 ounces Miller’s Westbourne
1 1/4 ounces lemon juice
3/4 ounce Yellow Chartreuse
1/2 ounce Benedictine
3 dashes Angostura bitters
1 egg white
1 1/2 ounces Belgian abbey beer
Combine all ingredients except beer in a shaker and dry shake. Add ice, shake. Add beer to an ice filled collins glass. Strain cocktail into glass. Garnish with an orange peel rosette.
By Tim Lacey

For a drink with so much alcohol, this tastes extremely light. The creaminess from the egg white makes it feel almost desserty, sort of like an orange creamsicle. There’s an herbal undertone here, but I can’t say I can pick out individual notes between the Chartreuse, Benedictine, and gin. The cocktail also tastes a bit too sour, which could also be muddying the liqueurs. (I don’t think the Martin Miller’s Westbourne would’ve helped this, either.) The best part is actually the beer, which cuts some bitterness into the drink. But I honestly don’t know if this was the best showcase for the Chartreuse or the Benedictine.3 It’s an interesting drink for sure, but a bit more work than it’s worth to add to my repertoire.
Up next, a Cynar drink that might look a little familiar.
Can’t find Yellow Chartreuse? I’ve heard the Italian liqueur Strega is a good substitute.
From Beta Cocktails by Maksym Pazuniak and Kirk Estopinal, 2011.
If you want a drink that spotlights these two liqueurs, try the Monte Cassino, a Last Word riff featuring equal parts of rye, Yellow Chartreuse, Benedictine, and lemon juice. It tastes like a candy flavor you’ve never had before.
I found dusty bottles of green and yellow in a divey Tennessee liquor store a couple of weeks ago as well. Bought all four bottles to smuggle back home to Chicago!